touched in the head
by hiropon056
Summary: While being onboard the Aquila Connor and Haytham are having a small incident due to some alcohol. (It is somehow slightly ConHayth, so if you are sensitive about this topic you shouldn't read this. This is my very first fanfiction and english isn't my native language so please be clement. Oh, and the titel probably doesn't say much about the story)
1. Chapter 1

The ship was pitching and tossing as Haytham and Connor were on board of the Aquila and on their way to find Church. I t was already dark and Connor hadn't seen his father for quite a while when he decided that he should go to his quarters to get some rest. He passed his father's quarters on his way and stopped at the closed door just to lean against the wood and listening for any sounds. Nothing. 'Probably already asleep…' the Captain thought as he went on and after a few more steps reached his final destination, not knowing that his father wasn't asleep nor that he wasn't even in his room.  
No, Haytham had used the time under deck to go for a stroll through the Aquila when he spotted the rum stock. It may had been his son's ship but it was a ship after all and with it came a bunch of seamen who became thirsty after a long and hard workday on open sea. Haytham tried to imagine that also Connor allows himself a bottle from time to time. But 'No' was the only word that appeared in his mind when he thought about his son, Captain Connor, getting drunk. And the word 'No' just appeared one more time in his mind when he thought about allowing himself a bottle of this rum just now. He tried to figure out when he was drunk the last time, but it seemed to be so long ago that he wasn't even able to find the information in his memory. He usually never allowed himself to get too dizzy from the alcohol. 'Too many enemies, too many duties considering the order, too many endangerments…' these were the thoughts that crossed his mind, but he already had grabbed a bottle, uncorked it and started chugging it like it was exactly what he needed all those years. And it wasn't the last bottle he grabbed.  
Connor, there while trying to cope with his "Captain's duties" as Master Faulkner once called it, just finished to write down the current events in the journal when he heard a noisy outside his room. Although he was tired and just wished to finally call it a day he was too curious to just ignore the noise that sounded like a wild horse trying to get out of a stable. But there was no need to follow those sounds as in the next moment the door flung open and Haytham appeared in the doorframe. Connor was too stunned to even say a word instead just stared at his father who obviously seemed to be out of balance. Leaning against the doorframe and grabbing the doorknob as if it was the last thing that could hold him back from falling on his face. "This is not my chamber…" was the first thing he slurred with his cocky british accent while stating the fact. The smell of alcohol slammed Connor like a punch and he brought his hand up to his nose while wondering why Haytham, although being aware that this wasn't his room, nevertheless stumbled some steps forward and closed the door behind him. With that disgusting smell of alcohol now even closer to him Connor tried to take some steps back, but the Aquila wasn't a cruise liner, there for the quarters weren't commodious and he was reminded to that when the back of the knees made contact with his bed. Haytham, now standing in the middle of the room, looked around and stared at the first thing that caught his eye. The desk. On it lay the journal. It was still opened on the page on which Connor just had written the events and the still wet quill lay nearby. Everything lit by the only candle in the room which stood on the desk as well. "What's all this about?!" Connor asked in a harsh tone. But his father just ignored him and weaved towards the desk just to lean over it. Steadying himself by placing his hands on the solid wood. "Ahhh, a journal." he began. His voice filled with amusement while his face showed a hint of a smile. "A good way… to remember old times." He said and with every word his voice became lower and he turned slowly to face Connor, who was still standing in front of his bed and observed his father's strange behavior with a suspicious frown. Without knowing what he said Connor snarled the first though that crossed his mind, "Are you touched in the head?!" .  
By hearing the sentence he remembered so well Haytham just could stare at his son. The light of the candle flickered over his son's face and the remarkable resemblance between Connor and Ziio hit him like slap. He straightened up, as much as his blood alcohol level allowed him to, and said with the same low voice as before "You look so much like your mother." Connor, not only enraged because his father 'again' decided to ignore his question but also confused to hear the sentiment upon his lips, cocked his head to the side… "What?" was all he said while squinting his eyes as he tried to figure out if Haytham was just drunk or if it was some kind of strange tactic to catch him off guard and finally putting an end to his life. But there wasn't much time to weight the reasons for this conversation as Haytham , with the words "Yes, you do…" stepped forward, grabbed his son's jaw and pressed a rough kiss on his lips.  
Due to his drunkenness and the still present loss of balance he sent both them on the bed. Haytham somehow awkwardly kneeling over Connor, still having a tight grip on his jaw, didn't even mind to break the kiss. And he probably had way too much alcohol in his blood to even see the reason why he should, if he even knew what he was doing at the very moment.  
If maybe Haytham wasn't aware of the situation, Connor was all the more. Being first taken by surprise he now he began to struggle. Tasting the rum in his mouth and at the same time having problems to breathe, not just because of the kiss but also because his father shifted all his weight on the hand that lay on Connors jaw, he was resolved to get out of this case. With that he brought one of his knees up and brutally hit his father bollocks. The hit wasn't only hard enough to break the kiss but also to send Haytham headfirst over him. Connor seized the opportunity and stood up as fast as he could. Breathing heavily he stared down on Haytham who not only made contact with his knee but also with the wall. He now lay on his flank and dizzily looked up at his son. One hand clinging between his legs, the other laying limp in front of him he gasped and coughed unable to form a word. And while Connor slowly caught his breath, the gasping and coughing stopped and he found his father to be fast asleep.  
Still trying to recognize what just happened he turned, blew out the candle, grabbed his Captain's hat and with the words "…Some fresh air might do me good." He left the room. One more time without knowing what he just said and how much he took after his parents.


	2. Chapter 2

There wasn't much talking between Haytham and Connor during the rest of the journey. Connor was following his Captain's duties and Haytham just spent his time onboard the Aquila with sitting in room, climbing the crow's nest or just strolled around. They had found Church and after ending him and taking the supplies they made their way back to New York.

Although that was how they acted, the incident never left Connor's mind and he found himself admitting that the reason for his sleepless nights wasn't actually the kiss. But all his thoughts were spinning around the phrase his father had said that night – "to remember old times…"  
It was somehow obvious that what Haytham meant was his time back then together with his mother, Ziio. That, he was sure, was a fact, due to what happened right after. The Kiss and so on.  
But he couldn't stop thinking that there was more about this particular phrase He had seen it in his father's eyes. It was as if there were thousands of pictures spinning behind Haytham's eyes and only as Connor asked if he was "touched in the head", all those flashing pictures – thoughts – stopped. And they had stopped at one of Ziio.

His mother had never told him much about Haytham. Nothing more that facts like that he was a Templar or that he was British. But she never told him something that included her feelings towards him. Of course he wanted to know more about this. It was just natural. But with his mother gone, the only person he could get that information from was his father. And casually walking up to him and asking wasn't even an opportunity worth thinking about.  
These were the thoughts he had while the Aquila was on her way to New York.

After a few more days, New York finally was less than 10 miles ahead of them. That was when the Captain decided to tell his father to prepare himself for the landing.  
Haytham wasn't on deck. He rarely had been after that night. Most of the time he was in his quarters and that was where Connor wished to find him. But when the Captain reached the chamber, and after not getting an answer to his knocking, he found it empty as he stepped inside. Hoping that Haytham wasn't again in the rum stock, Connor let out an annoyed sigh. But that also wasn't where his father was. Although he somehow liked the effect the alcohol had on him, in the meaning of forgetting most of his worries for just a while, Haytham thought that it would be a good idea to stay away from it for a while.  
No, instead he had found another nice spot on the canon deck. With a light breeze coming through the hatches the air fresh enough and he had a nice view over the ocean. Most important, he was alone most of the time. This was also the place he was at right now, when suddenly he heard a noise. A screak. It took him a while but then he was sure that he heard seagulls and, as he had learned on his journey from London to Boston, that meant that land was nearby. So Haytham decided to head to his quarters and ready himself.

Meanwhile Connor was about to turn and look elsewhere for his father's whereabouts when he suddenly caught a glimpse of something that made him stop. It was a book that reached out from under the pillow which lay on Haytham's bed. He could only see a corner of it but it somehow looked familiar and so he grabbed it.  
It was his, or better the Aquila's, journal and he promptly was enraged and wondered if his father was really touched in the head for taking his journal without permission. It wasn't that he would find something personal in it, since Connor had – and always left – his personal writings at the manor in the Davenport Homestead. This one here was just for the nautical happening onboard the Aquila. But it was rather about the principle. With an angry snort he opened the first page although he didn't know why. Probably just to check it. A bad habit since he had a hard time trusting people.  
But what he saw made him frown. That was not his handwriting nor was it something he ever had written "6 December 1735".  
'Wait a moment…' Connor was confused. Turning the book around, he took a closer look at it. It wasn't his journal. It just looked almost exactly like it and due to his anger he must have ignored the little differences.  
Connor knew it was wrong but he saw his chance. His chance to finally getting the answers he yearned for so long.  
He was holding his father's journal in his hands and as fast as he could he rushed into his, just a few steps away, quarters, exchanged the two journals, headed back and placed the Aquila's journal in the exact position as he had found the other one. Just in time he was able to straighten up and turn around to face Haytham who now stepped through the door, looking at his son with suspicious eyes. "Son?" he said with his hands behind his back.  
"I was on my way to inform you that we will soon reach New York. You should prepare for the landing." Connor said without much emotion and pressed himself past Haytham to left the room. Leaving his father alone behind, Connor made his way on deck. The Aquila needed her Captain and since Connor didn't need to prepare himself to get off the ship, for they just stopped at New York to let Haytham disembark and then directly heading towards Davenport harbor, he stepped beside Master Faulkner and gave the commands as he always did.

The harbor of New York was even nearer when Haytham, with Connor now gone, finally had time to back his belongings. There wasn't much to pack in fact, just a few utensils which he was able to stuff into the jacket pockets of his frock-coat. Amongst them the book, which he fast pulled out from under the pillow and tucked it into his inside pocket.  
Shortly after the Aquila lay at one of New York's berths and Haytham disembarked without giving his son a properly goodbye but instead just a short nod.

Connor felt somehow relieved as he watched his father leaving the ship and disappearing between the townsfolk of the city that was rushing along the dock. He gave himself just a brief moment to look after Haytham when he hastily gave the order to cast off. He knew that they would soon arrive at the Homestead where he, at last, had the time and the peace to read in his father's journal.


End file.
